


Crisis Counseling

by batsaboutbats



Category: Batman - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Rings, Cock Warming, Collars, Consent Issues, Discipline, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Overstimulation, Painplay, Riding, Sex Toys, Sextoys, Smoking, Spanking, Subspace, Threats of Violence, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Verbal threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsaboutbats/pseuds/batsaboutbats
Summary: Slade doesn't just take on hit jobs in his line of mercenary work. Sometimes he takes jobs of a more... intimate nature.Two birds, one bastard man.
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Slade Wilson, Tim Drake/Slade Wilson, Tim Drake/Slade Wilson/Damian Wayne
Kudos: 53





	Crisis Counseling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meaninglessblah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/gifts).



> Wrote this as a Christmas gift for Meaninglessblah! Now I'm sharing it with all of you, something naughty to ring in the new year :3c Enjoy! Comments appreciated!

Slade is a terrible but busy man. The week had been a productive one. He’d taken out four politicians and a pedophile-- wait,  _ make that five politicians _ . The last target on his books had been a little old lady that hoarded her wealth from her darling grandchildren. Too bad for the greedkids, she’d paid him to pick them off too. They would be on his schedule for next week,  _ after _ they’d sent him a check for his services.

Even with business booming, he still enjoyed keeping his weekends free. Sometimes it was a simple affair, just a bottle of good scotch and a book. Lately he’d been spending his down time more constructively. Best of all, it would enrage one of his most persistent enemies.  _ Two birds _ , one stone.

The funny part was that they weren’t even the birds he wanted to stuff his dick into begin with. Grayson had been a dalliance worth getting distracted by, even if it hadn’t come to fruition. There was something nice about being able to make the man swallow uncomfortably whenever he was in the vicinity. The pretty bird was too much like his mentor though, too stubborn and willful. Slade had made mistake after mistake with him and thus Grayson would rather break his own back than ever bend over for him.

He made himself comfortable against the Italian leather loveseat, and inhaled deeply, pulling on his contraband Cuban cigar. He let the flavor roll over his tongue and fill his lungs in a rare indulgence. Bane had dropped a crate of them off with his last payment and they were a much appreciated freebie. 

“Tt…” 

Sounded like someone didn’t appreciate them as much as he did. He exhaled a plume of rich smoke right into the brat’s face, watching him struggle back a cough. Tempted to backhand him, he instead chose to flick the ash right over bare tan thighs.

Damian didn’t flinch, even as the red embers in the ash glowed against his skin with a soft sizzle. Slade knew he could put the cigar out on him and he probably wouldn’t show any outward signs of discomfort. Al Ghuls were like that, it didn't matter what the bat did to break their training, some things were just too ingrained.

He had to wonder though, if  _ this _ was from that side or the other.

Over his lap Tim was moving, bouncing on his cock like a piston, steadying himself with Slade’s splayed knees. Their little rendezvous had been planned, but Damian’s had not. Tim always called him when things were too distressing. Typical of burning the candle at both ends, carrying out stressful jobs that came with sky high stakes. Practically a textbook case.

Damian only came to him when he wanted--  _ needed _ to be punished.

It was the first time they’d all been in one room together, at least in such compromising positions. They’d crossed paths on the way out the door before so Slade suspected Damian knew he was interrupting. Begged the question what the brat had done to make it urgent enough to not be able to wait his turn.

Damian had been in high kneel for over ten minutes now, because Slade had expressly forbade Tim from using anything but his ass to get off. It would take some time for that, and he’d wanted to take the young CEO apart piece by piece. Giving him orders was a good way to do it.

“You can be good, can’t you?” He asked, carding his fingers through Tim’s hair in a gesture of mock tenderness. The young man shivered, his throat already bruising from the metal ring clamped around his pretty little neck. A small bell jingled from the attached o-ring, the kind that might be put on mischievous kittens--or cat thieves. It was not just an amusing decoration for Tim to wear, it was necessary for Slade’s peace of mind. He couldn’t help but be paranoid about  _ quiet  _ birds.

He yanked Tim’s head back far enough that he could see his successor practically eye to eye-- one of the traits all the little birdies shared was their flexibility. They would never be Grayson, but god if it wasn’t fun finding their limits.

Tim’s hips lost their rhythm, a broken noise all but falling out of him. Slade logged the reaction, a dark smirk twisting the corner of his mouth. Tim for his part hadn’t faltered, if anything he’d moved… _ faster _ .

“What’s eating you, kid?” He hummed at the broody teen at his feet. Whatever it was had to be pretty serious for him to break the appointment. Damian’s brows lowered, but didn’t he break eye contact.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Damian chose to address Tim instead, as if Tim was going to reply.

Tim was close, but Slade knew he’d need him to help him along. It would only take a few thrusts on his part, tapping right up into the sweet little space Tim’s prostate resided. Tempting as it was, he had better ideas. Damian came to him for  _ guidance _ that his father couldn’t provide. He could take care of that and make a show of it.

They didn’t really like one another either from Slade could gather. Yet the reactions were more like crossed wires. He didn’t particularly care but he was not above using their weaknesses against them. Decision made, he pushed the red envelope to see if either of them returned it to sender.

He lifted Tim right off his lap, ignoring the squeak of surprise when he turned him around to face their audience. He made sure to get a good grip beneath Tim’s knees, exposing him completely as he pulled him back down onto his cock. 

“Ah--!” Tim whined, head falling back against Slade’s sternum.

“If you want him to hurry up, you’ll have to help.” Slade sneered, ignoring the way Tim clenched at the suggestion. Damian flicked his gaze down to their joining, the uncertainty finally beginning to rear it’s head. “Instead of mouthing off, why don’t you put your mouth to better use, hm?” 

“D-Don’t you d-dare--!!” The whites of Tim’s eyes were visible now, but Slade didn’t miss the way his penis bobbed, red and impatient. Damian hesitated, eyed it with thinly veiled distrust. He knew it was all a ruse-- they had hashed out their hard limits in their contracts with him. This wasn't anywhere near it. Besides, they both had  _ words _ to deal with their discomfort if it came to that. Neither had used any of them yet.

“Hear that? He doesn’t want your filthy mouth on him.” Slade laughed, prying Tim’s pale thighs open to their limit, the tension obvious as the young man fought against him. “Go ahead and give it a suck. Make him change his mind.”

Damian lurched forward, crawling on hands and knees until he was close enough to wedge himself between Slade’s boots, nose brushing intimately against tender skin. He barely fit there, having hit another growth spurt after his teens. At twenty he was as big as the Red Hood. Slade was fairly sure he’d actually outmatch him and his own sire soon enough.

Tim whined, struggling against the pin more fervently but was no match against his own enhanced strength.

“Don’t worry-- I won’t tell your Daddy what a cocksucker you are.” Slade chuckled, enjoying the spark of shame that flared between both the birds. Damian's mouth opened at his assurance as if on cue, pink, wet and inviting. He could feel Tim shudder beneath his palms when that clever little tongue flicked into his slit.

“I also won’t tell him you _ came. _ ” He assured Tim sweetly as he tucked his chin on his slim shoulder, getting a better view of Damian’s progress. “And you’re going to  _ cum _ , aren’t you Tim? Nice and hard for him.” He waited until Damian’s lips wrapped around the weeping tip before he thrust up into Tim, right where he needed it. The force shoved him into Damian’s mouth to the root, too much too fast.

The wail that escaped Tim was animalistic, teeth bared in a snarl as he was forced over the edge. Slade let him clutch Damian’s head, since it was to pull his mouth closer rather than push him away.

He planted his feet and didn’t stop pounding into him even when Tim finished. He couldn’t help but grin when Damian didn’t either. The lewd squelch of his cheeks hollowing was nearly lost under Tim’s sobs, pushed past the point of pleasure and into the uncomfortable edge of oversensitivity. Damian had learned to suck cock on toys bigger than the piece Tim packed and he had also been trained not to stop until Slade  _ told _ him too.

“You’re not moving.” Slade brought his hand down over Tim’s slender haunch, hard enough to redden but not bruise. A warning of worse to come if he didn’t obey. There was only a slight pause, just long enough for Tim’s hands to skitter down Damian's shoulders where found the leverage he needed. He began to move himself along with Slade’s thrusts, moaning like a whore once he got the rhythm of it.

Just one more nudge and Tim was going to  _ lose it _ , Slade could tell. It was extremely difficult to get the young man down into the correct headspace, since he thought too much-- but Slade was good at what he did and Tim paid him handsomely for it.

He wished he’d thought of bringing Damian into the picture himself, rather than by happy accident. He could have charged more. Maybe he still could. Later they would all have a nice little chat about it and work out their previous agreements. He had every confidence negotiations would work out in his favor. Especially with the way Damian’s cock was starting to tent nicely in his briefs, hips hitching whenever Tim gasped.

He grunted, emptied himself into Tim without reserve since they always used protection. Barebacking was against their contract, because according to Tim he didn't know where he'd been. Slade made sure to grind into his prostate brutally, waiting for the moment where Tim’s eyes seemed to focus, recognized the familar sensation before he finally  _ dropped _ . Just letting go of all reservations. It was a gorgeous look on him. 

One bird down, one left to go. 

His attention shifted, pleased that Damian was still in his place, warming Tim’s softening cock beautifully. He nudged the brat’s crotch with the toe of his boot, before he planted his foot on his gut and shoved him onto his backside. 

"That's enough of that, you little pervert. You're enjoying it too much,"

He took a moment to pull out, before dumping Tim onto the floor with Damian. “But, since you did such a good job for me, I won’t beat your ass for interrupting," He stood up from the loveseat in Tim’s penthouse rec room, and disposed of the condom before he tucked himself back into his fly. 

Damian rolled onto his knees again, head down. 

"I just might change my mind if you lie to me though. Your appointment was tomorrow, what made you think you could bother me while I’m on the job?” He fisted the boy’s hair, dragging his head back up. 

“I--” Damian’s voice was rough, with a touch of shame. “I failed. I didn’t save a suspect. They bled out.”

Ah, _ that again _ . Slade thought it was such a fucking shame that the bat had broken the brat of the one thing the league had done right. It was no wonder the kid came to him, when he’d been weakened by their bleeding hearts. The bat and Grayson had no idea what they’d done and just like with Tim, they weren’t anywhere near capable of fixing it.

“Were you the one who made them bleed?” He kept his tone even, firm. 

“No,” Damian’s gaze drifted to the heap of limbs that was Tim, who was doing his best to melt into the carpet. "But I could have saved him if I had called it in."

“Pathetic.” He let go of him, sneering. “Your grandfather would weep, I know he taught you better. You trample the weak and then walk over their bodies,  _ boy _ .” Damian’s eyes grew shiny, so he slapped it out of him. “Ah, ah. Big boys don’t cry over spilled blood.”

“Yes sir.” Damian murmured after a moment, cheek blaring from the blow. He was just as hard to put into the mood as Tim, though Slade could work with his trigger a little easier. For him, humiliation was the key. The best way Slade had found was to take Damian’s personhood off his hands for their sessions. He’d fought so hard to save himself from the fate of his clones but the only way he found peace was to become just like them. The bastard that Slade was, he thought it darkly amusing.

“You have some nerve, thinking you’re important enough to bother me out of turn.” Slade leaned down to adjust his boot laces absently. He checked Tim's status, pleased to find him still where he needed to be for what came next. “Do you think you deserve my time?” 

Damian shook his head, fists clenched against his thighs.

“That’s right, you don’t.” Slade snorted. “You just sit there and think about what you’ve done.” He hauled Tim up off the carpet. “I’ve still got the entire night to spend with my client.”

Tim for his part went easily, rising to his feet smoothly. He was no longer winded or flaccid, at half mast against his thigh. He squirmed, inhaling sharply when Slade palmed him. Slade cast his attention back to Damian, a wicked scene beginning to take shape.

“Though.. You might serve me yet.” He slid his hand down between his trembling legs, testing the puffy rim of Tim's hole. It was still soft enough there to give at his questing fingertips, so he was satisfied it would give for something bigger. “You’re going to make it up to me by fucking Tim, while I make myself a drink. Wouldn’t you like that, Tim?”

He slapped his pert backside when Tim didn’t respond quite fast enough to his liking. Tim’s knees knocked together as he nodded. 

“What do you say?” He growled.

“Yes, I’d like that.” Tim replied, already stepping forward. Damian looked wary, but he didn’t move to get away. He watched as Tim went on hands and knees, just the way he liked him. Damian’s hands were careful when they framed his hips, shuffling closer. Tim was coming around at last, reaching underneath himself to take hold of Damian and guide him in, impatient. The wrinkle between the brat's brows just like his father’s when he sank into the waiting sheath, choking when Tim thrust back to spear himself completely.

Satisfied they wouldn’t kill each other, he headed to the nearby minibar to rifle through the cabinet for something he could tolerate. Tim was not a scotch man, his shelves stored with vodka and schnapps, because of course he would enjoy bitch drinks. There was vintage whiskey in the back, dusty and unopened. It would suffice. He ignored the soft groans at his back as he filled a highball with a granite cube from the small freezer and poured himself a heaping helping of the amber liquid.

“Oh yeah, before I forget…” He turned to watch them, swallowing down the first smooth sip. “You keep your swimmers to yourself, junior. You don't deserve the satisfaction. I catch you shooting, I’ll cut your nuts off and mail them to your mother.”

Damian froze mid-thrust, his hazy expression of pleasure wiped clean off his face to be replaced with cold dread. Slade wouldn’t  _ actually _ do it, but he liked letting him think it. Damian had never been allowed to top in their previous sessions. Slade wasn't even sure he'd gotten his dick wet before, considering how abrasive he was to those around him. He didn't want him getting too comfortable with it.

Tim didn’t seem to care, or maybe he did, fucking himself on the thick cock faster. To end himself, Damian, or both. Either way Damian was breaking out in a sweat and struggling.

Christ, he was young. Slade had never had much trouble at his age, but his stamina wasn't human. His premature problem was probably the result of being a touch starved child most of his life, but it had been getting better lately. He was still no match for Tim. Slade barely managed another sip before he needed to take charge, recognizing the tell tale signs. 

"Having trouble?" He asked calmly, as Damian breathed raggedly. Tim arched, belly flexing and Slade knew he was teasing the little bastard. Damian shook his head, still too prideful to ask for it. The flush creeping down his chest begged to differ, and Slade reached into his kit bag beside the couch.

Damian looked both devastated and humiliated when he flashed the cockring, snapping his fingers at Tim to get his attention.

"Up, if you please. I've got to collar this puppy's parts."

He was surprised Damian managed to hold it, cock wagging as Tim pulled off him. While he waited for him to recover, he made a show of inspecting Tim, fucking him with three fingers to check for any evidence of failure. All he found was leftover lube. Satisfied, he fixed the band over Damian, ignoring his strained groan. He snapped it against the base hard enough to sting and take the edge off.

"I knew you couldn't do it. There, now you can hump without making a mess." He mocked him, moving aside for Tim. "Go ahead babydoll, have a seat."

He was pleased when Tim chose to ride Damian in reverse so he could face him instead, giving him a front row view of the action. He took his time nursing his drink, occasionally directing their movements, to touch  _ here _ or  _ there _ , just so they knew who was actually calling the shots. 

A smart phone that was designated for his use with Tim eventually made it's way off the coffee table. Slade brought up the camera app for posterity. The entire gallery was a solid wall of flesh tones, mostly Tim in compromising positions with a few cameos of himself. Dick pics aplenty, since Tim had asked him to send them every so often. He highly suspected they were requested during boring board meetings. 

Daddy bat would have an aneurysm if he only knew his birdie had a collection like this.

"Smile," He snapped a few shots with and without the flash, before he checked them for any blurriness. Damian had buried his face into Tim's hair when he'd noticed, but it was too late. Slade caught him biting his lips, pupils blown wide in arousal and face red as a beet. He'd never be able to deny that he enjoyed being used by his rival now.

Tim always posed beautifully, but really put his back into when he pressed the record button. 

"Uhhhngh!" Damian hunched his shoulders, gripping the cradle of Tim's hips as he slapped himself against him.

"Look at you, so desperate. Does that feel good?" He laughed, zooming in on where he disappeared inside Tim. His cock was so dark it was nearly purple. "You can hold it a bit longer."

He only got a gurgle in response, Damian hissing through his clenched teeth.

"Tim, since it's your session, I'll let you decide. Does he get to finish, or should he just wait till his appointment tomorrow?" 

It took a moment for the older man to reply, grinding in slow circles as he seated himself. He glanced back at Damian, who looked hopeful for a passing moment before something in Tim's gaze dashed it.

"Not inside me." Tim decided, turning away. 

"Oh? And how is he supposed to without your ass?" Slade laughed.

"Don't care." Tim shrugged, drawing himself up and down. "You decide."

"You're vindictive, doll." He didn't hide his delight at the turn of events, pulling out some more tools from his kit. He laid out several cocksleeves to pick from, along with something new. A bottle of  _ special _ lubricant, custom blended. It was formulated with all natural plant derivatives.

He kept an eye on the frantic way Tim pulled at himself, before he plucked several tissues from a box on hand for this exact purpose. He cupped them carefully over the tip, letting Tim blow his wad freely. The younger man whined, cock twitching as Slade wiped him clean.

Damian had all but collapsed onto his back, both arms thrown over his face. He was sucking down air in shuddering breaths, shaking all over when Tim dismounted to crawl onto the loveseat.

Slade pulled a pocket knife out of his belt, flipping it open. The noise made Damian freeze, peering between the gap of his elbows. Tense and waiting for what Slade would do next, but ultimately too horny to fight.

He grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him up onto his shoulders, pinning him like a sheep for shearing. Damian held his breath when the back edge of the knife dragged over the inner crease of his hip.

"I suppose you can keep these, for now." Slade hummed, flipping the blade around experimentally to press it feather light beneath his balls. Just to let the brat feel how sharp it was, and maybe to stave off an accident. He couldn't take the ring off normally, not when Damian was already on the brink.

He tucked the tip of the knife just beneath the silicone ring and it popped off with just a slight tug of his wrist, since Slade kept all his blades sharp enough to operate with. Damian groaned, head thumping against the floor as he was relieved of the pressure, though he behaved himself. 

"Tim, pick a toy for him." Slade ordered, putting away his knife. He palmed the lube when Tim handed him his choice-- a clear jelly sleeve. Of course he'd picked the one that let him  _ watch _ . 

He flipped open the bottle cap, and squirted a liberal amount into the toy before recapping it. Damian had gotten himself comfortable, doing a breathing exercise of some sort. It wasn't going to make a difference, unfortunately. Slade wasn't that nice.

"You can play with yourself using this. But there's a catch." He hovered the toy over his prick, waggling it. "If you take your dick out even for a second, that's it. You won't get to finish at all until it's time for your appointment. And keep in mind, I may not let you until the end of your session either."

"Wh--" Damian looked confused.

"Yes or no, Damian." He snapped. "Decide."

"I-I want to." Damian swallowed, arousal stronger than his trepidation.

"Want to what? Use your words." He pushed him a bit more, pulling the toy back when the young man lifted his hips.

"I want to use the f-fucktoy." Damian flushed with shame.

"That's better," Slade purred, pressing the toy into Damian's hand. It was important that he knew his place, and only good boys who waited their turn got his attention. "Go ahead."

Damian wasted no time shoving himself into the toy's grip, blissed out in relief. It took only two strokes before his face scrunched up, as the lube kicked in.

"Wh-what is this?" Damian squirmed, panic dawning.

"That lube is from Ivy… I believe she used capsaicin. I didn't ask what kind she used, I just told her I wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. You're going to test it out for me." Slade snickered, wrapping an arm around Tim as he unzipped his fly once more. He pressed Tim's head down, pleased when he didn't even have to ask. The bird took him in hand and started to suck without reserve.

"How's it feel, champ?"

Tears ran over Damian's cheeks as he pulled the sleeve up trying to get some relief. Thinking better of it, he didn't take it off as he was unwilling to pay Slade's price. He jerked himself angrily, sniffling with each pass.

"Does your penis hurt? Maybe if you're nice, Tim will kiss it better." He laughed, knowing that wouldn't happen. He was going to make him sit in the corner and watch. "Come on boy, we haven't got all night. You wanted this, so hurry up."

Damian's hips shot up, the planes of his stomach going tense as he went over the edge. The toy turned milky as he finally spilled, pretty as a peach when he slumped back against the carpet. Slade shuddered, enjoying the sight and the broken moans that seemed to come out of the brat unconsciously. He pulled Tim's mouth off himself with a pop, letting him breathe.

Damian flinched as Slade pulled the toy off him, his cock still stiff as a flag pole. He glanced at the lube, and back down at his quarry, before he set the toy aside.

"Wasn't that enough for you?" He asked, stroking his beard. "Oh... I think she may have sprinkled a bit of  _ pollen _ into the batch." His smile was dark as Damian's glazed eyes found him, struggling to focus. There wasn't actually any pollen, but the boy was finally down and he wasn't about to let that pass without taking full advantage. 

He was going to have to rework their contracts before Damian's appointment he had a feeling.

"Guess you'll have to ask Tim for that kiss after all."


End file.
